The Thom Siblog

Nervous Breakdown Review: Joaquin Phoenix

2009-01-19T07:48:00.000-08:00

Joaquin (pronounced JOE-QUAN),

Sorry to hear about your bro. Not about his death: the millennium would have been a drag for him, so he dodged a bullet. What I'm really referring to is the fact that you are seriously tarnishing what could have been a brand name in Hollywood (if reproduction was in your future). I like you, I always have. When you look your worst, you look like young Greg Dulli at his best, which will get you at least a cup of coffee where I'm from. You added a homoerotic charisma to Gladiator, you played the neutered brother in Inventing the Abbotts and according to IMDB, you played Johnny Cash in a movie called Walk the Line. All good solid roles that had nothing to do with M. Night Whatshisface. I always thought you were kind of lazy and that if you tried a little harder and choose some better movies you could have been a Heath Ledger or an Anthony LaPaglia. But you quit acting to pursue a career in music.

I caught a sneak preview of your new hip hop songs as evidenced here:

Homeboy you are losing your mind! Now on your best day you look like Jerry Garcia at his worst. And I don't like that. I actually pray someone sends your agent a script by M. Night Whatshisname that teams you up with Mark Wahlberg just to get you out of this funk. Where are your parents? Girlfriends? You are going to be playing the Gary Busey role in an episode of Entourage in the future if you aren't careful.

I wish you well and pray that no one lets you near a recording studio.

Cheers,

T.G. Siblog

The Thom Siblog wants to know what you are listening to!

2009-01-16T07:21:00.001-08:00

As I sit here listening to 808s and Heartbreaks by Mr. Kanyeezy, contemplating the giggle-inducing-did-he-really-say-that couplet, "Looking at your history/You're like the girl from Misery," I was considering how it was only a few weeks ago that the best! music! of 2008! was announced by anyone with even the slightest modicum of insight into the current musical landscape (don't worry- they let Chuck Klostermann do a list too).

So now that we are a few weeks into 2009, what are you all listening to other than the new Animal Collective? Anyone find something on someone else's list? Or is there any record you still haven't found the time to hunt down?

What I've Been Listening to (with very useful links while supplies last):

Titus Andronicus- The Airing of Grievances- Mmmmm. I can completely chalk up my love for this band to many a night spent in a body odor laden elk's lodge waiting for the Get Up Kids to take the "stage." The members of Titus Andronicus were probably at those shows, and singer Patrick Stickles was probably running home to practice his own songs immediately after. Enthusiastic, ramshackle kitchen sink punk rock with touches of emo (the good kind), shoegaze, early Bruce Springsteen, and a Pogues-style outro so good it renders Ted Leo's "Timorous Me" nearly obsolete. The reason that their self-titled, Seinfeld-nodding debut continues to grow on me is Stickles doesn't fall into the modern day punk clap trap of singing about relationships, bro-dom or politics. Rather, Stickles shrieks, screams and stammers about Camus, the pointlessness of life and art, and the end of the world. Right down to the spoken word verse from Shakespeare's eponymous play at the end of the first song, The Airing of Grievances is a sprawling impressive debut record. Their live show is not to be missed: the band's mixture of unpretentious energy and old school punk rock posturing (when was the last time you were at a concert where it seemed appropriate for the singer to stick the mic in the front row?) will surely win you over if their record does not. Sing with me: "Your life is over!"

Air France- No Way Down EP- Is it lame that I rediscovered this Swede-pop band when I was in Uniqlo? It was the only silver lining to a disastrous post-Christmas shopping day, which led me to throw on No Way Down after I had written it off as a bit dull in early 2008. It's still not energetic but I find myself coming back to it for it's dreamier qualities. It actually makes perfect sense as department store background music: it's pretty and comforting without ever being overbearing or intrusive. But if you pay attention, for even a second, you will find yourself humming the songs all day.

TV on the Radio- Dear Science,- I have nothing new to add to the copious amount of press and praise that has been heaped upon these Brooklyn transplants. But after seeing TVOTR singer Tunde Adebimpe in the terrific Rachel Getting Married, I couldn't agree with Jack Donaghy more: synergy is bigger than all of us. If you have been sleeping on this record check it out so we can all sing the opening ba-ba-ba of "Halfway Home" together when they inevitably play a way packed free show this summer in Brooklyn.

Spider Bags- "Wake Up Drunk"- This actually came out in 2007. Spider Bags is the psuedonym for Dan McGee, a NJ singer-songwriter who definitely likes Paul Westerberg and Mike Ness. This is probably his best song to date: a simple sudsy country pop tune that makes you wish it was acceptable to put your arm around the person next to you and sing. No touching! Look out for his new album that comes out in 2009.

Random: Would the Thermals put out their new record already!??

I Believe in Mumblecore: Part 1

2008-08-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

The incestuous circle of mumblecore personnel recently achieved their highest honor yet as basic as it may seem: Baghead, the latest improv-ed talkie landed a distribution deal with Sony Pictures Classics. If the Duplass brothers felt any pressure, it isn't evident: the film is as confusing, jumbled, low budget and intoxicating as any other mumblecore picture, except it disguises itself as a horror movie. The last film by the Duplass brothers, LOL, suffered from poor critical response (typical of the mumblecore movies) but was ushered through most media outlets due to the hype of the burgeoning scene, which was still shiny and new in 2006. Most reviews of the mumblecore films seem to bemoan them, writing the characters off as self-absorbed and whiny. To that, I respond, perhaps you are too old, complacent in the recent dumbing down of independent cinema or a mixture of both.

Watching films such as Quiet City, Funny Ha Ha, Mutual Appreciation and Hannah Takes the Stairs, enhances me with the same quenching energy that I imagine most American cinephiles felt when watching Breathless, 400 Blows or Shadows in the 60's. Growing up in the 90's, where the Kevin Smith/Quentin Tarantino love of vulgarity and violence dominated the independent movie scene, I can't begin to express how enthusiastic I get watching young men and women making simple movies that convey the confusion of modern interpersonal dynamics. Which is why I tend to be more forgiving about things like plot, pacing and lighting. The Duplass brothers, along with Joe Swanberg, Aaron Katz and Andrew Bujalski, are currently laying the groundwork for a direction more independent films should be headed: back towards sincerity and reality, while moving away from irony with idealized/stylized situations and dialogue. The characters in these movies can be self involved, indecisive, unclear, frustrating and at times, meandering. But doesn't that sound like almost everyone from the age 35 on down?

These films to some extent, are representative of the generation of filmmakers raised by baby boomers and the idealized version of 70's cinema. The blueprint for how the great independent minded directors of the 70's took over Hollywood and achieved acclaim is no longer a viable option. That option has long been rendered obsolete due to the vicious vertical and horizontal integration that makes taking over a major movie studio impossible. Furthermore, the 90's model of Weinstein-Blair Witch-buy-us-an-indie-hit has resulted in the current heap of aim-to-please-distribution-companies quirkcore pseudo-indies. With art-house movie theaters stuffed with documentaries and films with famous actors that lack any real chance for commercial viability such as My Blueberry Nights and Married Life, I see mumblecore as the reboot of independent cinema that it so desperately needs.

A surface level criticism of most mumblecore films, particularly Hannah Takes the Stairs, is that it falls into that other new genre of modern independent film, quirkcore (yes, that's mine). Sure, Hannah climaxes with two twentysomethings playing horns (literally) in the bathtub. But how those people got to the tub is just as confusing, confounded, sloppy and unclear as any relationship I've witnessed in my lifetime. More importantly, the bond between those two people seems just as fleeting as most relationships are. Not every relationship is going to be capital "I" Important and if that isn't represented in independent cinema, it won't be anywhere else. The characters in the mumblecore films distinguish themselves from Miranda July and Diablo Cody's characters in that they live more organically. In quirkcore films such as Juno, Me, You and Everyone We Know and Little Miss Sunshine the characters may have weird habits, act in bizarre ways and rage against a ludicrously black and white version of mainstream corporate America but ultimately, the characters seem to always end up with moralistic Hollywood endings.

Consider the trite, dangerously cute ending to Juno in which everything is just fine for little Juno. She may have a had a kid in high school, but hey, she snagged a boy in track shorts (krazy!) and the traditional mom who worked so hard at being a cookie cutter version of a mom gets her baby. But Jason Bateman's character, whose actions are less than commendable, has to get the hell out of dodge. In Me, You and Everyone We Know, everyone is paired off in the end, right down to the creepy business lady and the creepy cute kid who is obsessed with poo passing. Oh and art wins over commerce. And there were no repercussions for a woman who was having cyber sex with a minor. We all learned a lesson and are happily paired off in the traditional roles being hocked off by every mainstream Hollywood movie. You'd think this was the Brady Bunch! Which is exactly what Little Miss Sunshine is: they might be dysfunctional but they are one big happy family! Which is makes makes the fleeting uncertainty and greyness of the mumblecore films, including Baghead feel so invigorating.

Monday: Baghead reviewed!

Concert Review: Pitchfork Music Festival, Wrap Up

2008-07-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

Spoon's misgivings aside, the P4k Festival 2008 was a rousing success. Well booked, well organized and well run, Pitchfork is an anomaly during the summer festival season. It is the festival for people who go to concerts all year round. In my experience, attendees of Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza, Coachella, and to a lesser extent, Austin City Limits are not hardcore music fans. No judgments: not everyone needs to be scouring around the internet searching blogs for new music. But the way people approach music affects how they behave and what to expect during their festival experience. Perhaps influenced by the high ticket price or camping atmosphere, Bonnapalooza attendees seem more interested in the activities that fall on the penumbra of music listening, e.g., the drugs, the drinking, the general debauchery that accompanies camping with tens of thousands of people enjoying the aforementioned activities. Which is almost understandable: those are massive concerts where unless you wait for hours there is not much to do but listen to music played by people you are watching solely on a television screen. It's not to say that the Pitchfork Festival is a MENSA meeting with live music but the amount of intoxicated revellers are less than you'd see at Studio B on a Saturday night with about eight times the amount of people. The Pitchfork Festival has earned it's reputation as a festival where people can have a beer, be comfortable and check out an assortment of quality bands. The bands play nice long sets (45-55 minutes on the mainstages) and there is never a moment where you can't watch the bands comfortably. Additionally, the three stage set up minimizes set conflicts to a frightening extent.

With that said, some suggestions for next year:

Go global-er: Considering the overwhelming amount of music that Pitchfork supports of an international ilk, over 90% of the artists performing were from the US or the UK. While it is true (and unfortunate) that El Guincho cancelled, there have been at least three or so break out bands from Sweden (Studio, Tough Alliance, Air France) and countless Norwegian metal, French/German DJs that could have spiced up the affair a little.
Diversity: More girls/hip hop/pop please!
Take a few more risks: The Elephant Six old guard might turn on a few old school midwesterner scenesters, but Apples in Stereo and Elf Power are positively finished creatively, and it seems silly to continue to use them as slot fillers.
Less sensitive boys with guitars/frog vocals: While Bon Iver is an acoustic act that had a certain buzz around him that warranted a second stage performance, bands like the Dodos and M. Ward seemed to go ignored altogether or get dismissed with "good but ya know, not the right setting." Why bother then?
Lose Don't Look Back or seriously reconsider the bands/artists that are booked. From what I heard, Sebadoh seemed barely stoked to be playing some of those songs (for the first time!) and the audience was just about as nonplussed.
Get more dance bands and put them on later. It was evident that people wanted to dance this year, a sign of a great concert vibe. But unfortunately only Cut Copy played music with a beat during the twilight hours. In a testament to both how awful Spoon were and how bad people wanted to dance, it was inspiring to watch people literally run to the second stage to get down, especially after 10 hours of music and sun. I would even suggest doing away with Don't Look Back and having a dance night either in the park or at a nearby warehouse.

Concert Review: Pitchfork Music Festival, Sunday

2008-07-23T07:24:00.000-07:00

After passing out in our clothes with the lights on Saturday night, the Siblog crew were prepped so early on Sunday that we had the pleasure of spending an extended amount of time in the World Famous Billy Goat Tavern and Grill, which is adjacent to Union Park. Two rounds of white russians and a bacon egg and cheese sandwich might be henceforth known as the classic festival breakfast.

1:00-1:15pm, Times New Viking: A fuzzy pop punky band on Matador that sings about girls and drugs. What isn't to love? Less than you'd think! This is the second time I'd witnessed this Midwesterner trainwreck live. The first time was opening for the Super Furry Animals and I can't say they won me over this time. Much like No Age, Times New Viking sounds so skeletal that it can be frustrating. It's like listening to songs recorded in mono with only one earphone functioning. To make matter worse for TNV, their drummer introduces every single song with shouted witticisms such as "POP SONG #3/DRUG SONG # 1." Please note: the numbers change but the song quality does not. None of their songs are pop songs: if their blurry soft focus garage rock songs ever touch a solid melody they repeat it for 10 seconds and then collapse back into disarray. A Siblog affiliate contacts me to let me know that the back stage is running late and there is still a chance to catch Mahjongg.

1:15- 1:30pm, Mahjongg: K Records krautrock dance band Mahjongg were very impressive. Though their sound is distinctly influenced by German psychedelic music, it is evident that Mahjongg is also influenced by straight dance music. Which, now that I think about it, is what makes LCD Soundsystem so excellent as well. We only got to check them out for a brief period as Dirty Projectors were about to start on the mainstage.

1:30- 2:00pm, Dirty Projectors: The last time Jarvis came to New York City he hand-picked his opening bands. I was lucky enough to see the Dirty Projectors perform and have been enamored with them ever since. As good as their "cover" record Rise Above is, their gentle vocal interplay is an even greater pleasure to behold in person. The Dirty Projectors play music that is undoubtedly "indie" but I can't help but feel it would be selling them short with that description. Their melodies are complex but not in the XTC vein, where you find them to be slightly grating followed by gleefully addicting. For all of their smooth guitar lines and ineffably beautiful melodies, Dirty Projectors set more of a mood then provide hummable hooks. Which makes watching them (buzzed) on a lovely afternoon even better. I should also take this time to salute Angel Deradoorian, the very talented bassist/singer for Dirty Projectors of which whom the Siblog crew has a massive crush on.

2:00-2:30pm, Boris: Having read/heard/absorbed their schtick (Japanese metal, smoke machines, droning) for the last few years, my expectations were not very high. From the minute they took the stage with clear pink drums and a massive gong, it was clear that Boris was not particularly concerned with my expectations. Fair enough! Playing primarily from their Smile record, Boris played heavy, they played fast and they had the midday audience in a frenzy. Boris played fast trashy metal which, while dense, was rarely dissonant, with the exception of a perfectly pitched drone guitar that accented their riffage in all the right ways. A true festival miracle!

2:40- 3:15pm, HEALTH: Another P4k festival surprise. Hyped up LA noise-makers HEALTH "brought it" on Sunday. HEALTH sounds like No Age if they put some more effort into their song writing and didn't bother with the pretense of playing "pop" music. They also sound like murder, probably within a tribal circle of an angry mob. I think from now on I might just describe everyone in relation to No Age. My enjoyment of HEALTH is exceptionally shocking given my distaste for their performance on Pitchfork.tv's Don't Look Down. The band shrieked, the guitars sounded like metal being cut in two by a violent wielder (in a good way) and the drums shook the trees and blanket dwellers. One of my favourite discoveries of the festival. Also their merch rules.

4:00- 4:50pm, Les Savy Fav: It's easy to pretend Les Savy Fav is nothing more than an abnormal looking lead singer with a penchant for silliness. There is something about the rest of LSV's everyman normality that makes the band seem less "schticky." Besides, they get increasingly closer to perfect with every record they release. Purists will argue, ROME WRITTEN UPSIDE DOWN, LSV's debut EP is their quintessential release but I would argue for 2007's Let's Stay Friends. Had LSV decided to record such an album in 2003/04 instead of going on hiatus or (admirably) recording singles, LSF might be a bigger band. But why would they do that? Les Savy Fav already play with the confidence of eternal headliners. Opening with "The Equestrian" and tearing through the first half of Let's Stay Friends as well as highlights from Inches, Tim jumped into a garbage filled basin and only to be lifted into the audience before putting Cher to shame with his costume changes. Beware of appearances: for all their hooks, energy and showmanship it is Seth Jabour's echo laden guitar lines that really hold the Fav together.

6:00- 645pm, Ghostface Killah & Raekwon: What can be said about my hometown boys taking the stage to a packed to the brim audience, all holding their hands up in a "W"? Due to a European tour commitment they were dashing on the stage coming right from the airport! Why do they do it? Is it the love of the fans? Is it the love of the game? Oh no. It's because (according to Raekwon, henceforth, the "Chef"), "Chicago is one of our biggest markets!" Oh Chef! They busted into "Criminology," setting off 45 minutes of Wu-beats that focused primarily on Only Built For Cuban Linx, Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) and to a lesser extent, Fishscale. The guys are both extremely charismatic performers and gave the audience anything they wanted-- to the point where one of the emcees would cut a beat if the energy seemed to die down. There was a funny moment where someone yelled for "Kilo" and the audience perked up. The DJ told Ghost he'd didn't have it, to which Ghost just deadpanned, "That's fucked up, man." Ghost spit the first verse of Dilla's downbeat "Whip You With a Strap" without breaking a sweat but it was the Chef that was ultimately the duo's showrunner that Sunday. I just wish there would have been some Supreme Clientele and Pretty Toney represented. And duh, there was an ODB tribute/excuse to play "Shimmy Shimmy Ya" that had the audience bursting with fruit flavour.

7:30- 8:15pm, Bon Iver: Since the P4K schedule had been posted for weeks and my obsession with Bon Iver had already reached it's zenith, I'd already written off Spiritualized as a necessary sacrifice. I was also under the impression that Mr. Spaceman would be playing one of his "Acoustic Mainline" gigs and I wouldn't be missing much. Well he did not and this caused multiple problems. First off, I love the big woozy pill laden rock and roll of the early Spiritualized records, from Pure Phase right on through Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating in Space. To watch the captivated crowd in the crisp setting sun as I retreated to the woodsie second stage to watch Bon Iver was a little sad. But it was mostly worth it. Or it would have been if the second problem didn't exist: Spiritualized sound bled right through to the other stage, making Mr. Vernon's precious harmonies a bit difficult to sort out at moments of extreme loudness. Sound adjustments aside, Bon Iver has perfected playing his debut record live. He knows the places where people will sing, the order to play the songs and which songs to omit. Even with the noise in the background and the distance between myself and the band it was no surprise that "For Emma" was a festival highlight for me. It is the chug that drives "For Emma" that makes it so powerful. It is hesitant but determined. It's the reluctant sound of having to move forward, onward, upward. When the horns mirror the vocal lines they feel like rays of hope shining during our bleakest moment. As the outro soars there is a palpable feeling that something beautifully horrifying has passed and the release feels pretty magical. While Vernon himself tells us that these songs are "not the sound of a new man" (on the wisely omitted "re: Stacks"), "For Emma" feels like a distinct moment of change. No other artist in recent memory has made me fight back tears so often or sound so damn emo.

8:15- 9:00pm, Dinosaur Jr.: Rock. Hard, blistering solo laden indie rock. Dinosaur Jr. probably sounds better now than they ever have. They played lots of tracks from 2007's Beyond, minor alterna-hit "Without a Sound" and of course, their anthem, "Freak Scene." I will admit that I did not pay them the closest attention as I'll be seeing them at ATP NY in September.

9:00- 10:00pm, Spoon: I love the band Spoon. Which is what makes writing this so so hard. I've seen the band several times and admittedly the only time I saw them and enjoyed it I was black-out drunk on tequila. But this was Sunday night festival headlining slot Spoon. Even the notoriously difficult Animal Collective was able to keep the energy high enough for people to be hippie dancing to their squishy muppet pop. To say that Spoon did not "bring it' is an understatement. Furthermore, I'd like to say that this is entirely singer/guitarist Britt Daniel's fault. Aloof, slightly antagonistic (why is he treating his guitar so harshly?) and constantly fiddling with his guitar pedals, Daniel was like the anti-front man. On record Spoon plays slight experimental pop but it's become apparent that Daniel wants to really lean on the experimental side when they perform. He might need to either write new songs to accommodate this or learn the chops to pull his current catalogue together live. Sadly for the rest of the band, most of his attempts to subvert came from an echo box that he triggered on his vocals every fifteen to forty-five seconds. On top of their lack of audience engagement, Spoon opted to play the silliest most un-festival set imaginable. Even Britt looked bored. Opening with a blah version of "Small Stakes," the band segued into "My Mathematical Mind" (!?!). But don't worry, they played "Rhythm and Blues," "The Beast and Dragon, Adored" and "I'll Summon You." Shrugsies! They did play Series of Sneaks opener, "Utilitarian" but that jolt of energy only lasted around 2 minutes. By the time they got around to "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb" and "The Underdog" the audience was fed up and filing out and who can blame them. If your band can't entertain 14,000 or so people playing pop songs that the majority of the audience knows all the words to, you need to go back to the drawing board.

Concert Review: Pitchfork Music Festival, Saturday

2008-07-21T10:55:00.001-07:00

This past weekend the Thom Siblog and his affiliates descended upon Chicago for roughly 72 hours to drink too much Fuze, ogle rock poster art and check out the dozens of bands playing the Pitchfork Music Festival. Having attended the festival in 2006, I noticed some minor changes to the festival set up: this go around there was a more substantial third stage (which I believe can be attributed directly to last year's police baiting Girl Talk set) and jumbotron-esque screens that alternated between Pitchfork.tv promos and the acts performing on the main stages.

Truth be told, Saturday morning looked grim, weather-wise. When I pulled the curtain to my hotel room open I expected to see an idealistic mix of sun, sprinkled with some clouds, with a light breeze gently shaking the trees. What I got were torrential downpours. One trip to the Walgreen's later, ponchos were acquired (Sox, not Cubs) and off to the Festival we went.

1:00-1:30pm, Titus Andronicus: We arrived early to see the lit-obsessed punkers play an energetic set to an early crowd covered in misty rain. They opened with a guitar-and-shrieking-only version of "Common People" which sadly, did not segue into a full band version. Learn it guys! Even without the knowledge that this band is from Central New Jersey, I could have spotted these enthusiastically dorky rock kids from a million miles away. They have a naive energy that the drummer from Times New Viking tries to produce but fails: every member of Titus Andronicus was flailing around, singing/mouthing/shouting every hysterically dramatic verse and chorus, regardless of whether they were mic'ed or it was necessary. They rarely looked cool or postured: even when lead singer Patrick Stickle, donned in a Batman circa '89 t shirt, grabbed a flag tied to a microphone stand to wave it around, he struggled with it as he couldn't seem to stop jumping around long enough to properly operate it. They closed with their anthems, "Titus Andronicus" and "Fear and Loathing in Mahway, NJ" before Jay Reatard kicked things off on the opposing stage. Melodic and raw, earnest and endearing, Titus Andronicus somehow managed to live up to the expectations set by their excellent debut album, "The Airing Of Grievances" without playing it's best song, "Arms Against Atrophy."

1:30-2:00pm, Jay Reatard: As I previously mentioned, the jumbotron screens enabled festival goers to watch the other main stage band while camping out to get a good spot for a band you'd prefer to see. For example, while I remained at the Connector Stage waiting for Caribou to blow my mind, I got to suffer through Jay Reatard's disastrously boring set of recycled punk/rock/guitar jams. I'd already tried digesting Jay a few times beforehand and failed to see the fuss. Personally, from everything I've read and heard of him, I think he is a bit of posturing noob. Donning flying-v guitars and long hair, Jay and his band tonelessly shouted through song after song, making sure to announce the song title obnoxiously before bursting into a song that needed no introduction. Example: Jay screams "RED MEAT." Bands kicks in. First line "RED MEAT! GUNNA EAT YOU ALIVE!" Avoid at all costs.

2:00-2:40pm, Caribou: After enduring Mr. Reatard and more drizzling, Dan Snaith and Caribou took the stage. Although I've never had the chance to pontificate about them on the Siblog, Caribou has quietly become one of my favourite bands of the last few years. Last year's Andorra is a gorgeous and intricate set of songs that strips away the krautrock/hip hop influences that dominated The Milk of Human Kindness to achieve even greater success. While they were initially plagued by sound problems, they opened with an extended version of "Sundialing" segueing perfectly into a bass heavy version of "Melody Day." Every member of Caribou plays such a huge role into recreating the fragile yet dense songs that Mr. Snaith hones in the studio, but none more than Brad Weber, Caribou's drummer. Most of Caribou's finest moments are propelled by hard hitting percussive centers and thus by the time they played "After Hours," Dan (who also plays drums live) and Brad managed to find the hypnotic groove that makes them such a worthwhile and enduring live act.

2:45- 3:00pm, Icy Demons: We left the Caribou set a little early to catch Icy Demons. Hailing from Chicago/Philadelphia, Icy Demons are most notable for being Pow Pow's (drummer from Man Man) experimental side project featuring members of Need New Body. That is to say, a jazzy rock free form hybrid. Although I enjoyed their 2006 LP, Tears of a Clone, I did not find much of Icy Demons to be very enjoyable that Saturday afternoon. The songs were not experimental but were certainly free form: the female member of the band simply fanned herself while occasionally providing back up vocals. The whole affair had bad-world-music-band written all of over it and Pow Pow, who usually compels my attention during even the most distracting of Man Man's on-stage antics seemed content to play basic backbeats. Due to my love of Man Man, I am still looking forward to checking out their new record on Pow Pow's Obey Your Brain label.

3:00- 5:00pm, break time: After Icy Demons, we took a few minutes to embrace the Pitchfork festival for all it's non-musical amenities, of which there are plenty. One of the many wonderful things about the Pitchfork Festival is that it manages to provide distractions that never seem unnatural to the music festival. Whether it be an old school record fair in a tent or booths littered with the premier indie labels hocking tote bags or a Whole Foods tent selling fresh organic produce, there didn't seem to be too much space wasted on corporations hocking lifestyle items or collecting demographic information. Chipolte, arguably the biggest sponsor, didn't have food available; all the food vendors were exclusively local businesses. Both Siblogs purchased Secretly Canadian t-shirts and Matt Siblog harassed many a record label booth with questions about their least popular artists. We also managed to lay low and avoid the Rip Van Winkle-esque acappella stylings of (who knew!) the weekend's most beloved band, Fleet Foxes. Around 4:30 we began to mosy over to the Aluminum Stage where the weekend's most polarizing band, Vampire Weekend were to take the stage.

5:00-5:50pm, Vampire Weekend: The funniest part of Vampire Weekend is watching people attempt to dislike them. As they came on we watched people nervously look around to see if anyone else was singing along. God knows that we were! For all the Fleet Foxes Kool Aid being guzzled down by the indie-masses (whatever the fuck THAT means) I cannot understand the resistance of these same masses to embrace Vampire Weekend. By the end of their set, the audience warmed nicely to the crystal-clean pop but not without making the young men earn it a bit. Even the band seemed to acknowledge their own fear of the situation, with singer/ham/guitarist Ezra Koenig saying, "This is going much better than we anticipated." We also egged the audience to sing along with great success on songs such as "A-Punk" and "One (Blake's Got a New Face)." The latter, their S/T album's sole clunker, takes on a whole new context live when the audience provides the call and response vocals, negating the one scuff in the band's glossy repertoire. They played one new tune which antagonistically snags the staccato guitar line from Paul Simon's "Crazy Love, pt. 2" while still putting their own anxious spin on it by playing a bubbly drum sample over it. Set highlight: During "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" the very pretty, very preppy, very clean (a telltale sign of a late day/rain avoiding entrance) girl in front of me was a bit embarrassed when Ezra barked out the chorus, with an emphasis on the line, "Do you wanna fuck like you know I do?" remarking that she never knew that was the lyric.

6:00- 6:50pm, !!!: New York dance punk legends (is it too soon?) !!! took the stage without an album to support and apparently, a hell of a lot to prove. Singer Nick Offer made a point to mention that even though !!! had one of lowest overall scores of the bands playing at the festival they remained one of the highest billed. Perhaps that is because none of those scores ever took !!!'s live show into account. It's a bit of a rock cliche, to remark that you need to see a band live, but hell, you need to see !!! live. Nic Offer's effeminate dance moves and the blistering dance-punk-house-funk musical hybrid that provides the basis for the aforementioned moves has been simmering for years and never fails to work the audience into a frenzy. The band primarily played tracks from last years under appreciated Myth Takes, but did manage to play one excellent new song that seemed to venture into a smoother, more R & B direction while maintaining the classic !!! dance groove. Oh and next time play your classic mayoral bashing hit!

6:50- 8:00pm, The Hold Steady: The Hold Steady went out as soon as !!! went off and seemed to play for an eternity. They started their set with their typical sloganeering: "Are you ready to build something this summer, Chicago?" Craig Finn, the plaid adorned non-singer for the Hold Steady asked the crowd. Oh jeez. I'm not sure what exactly the Hold Steady are building this summer but I know I'd like to be heading the demolition crew. Over the years my feelings for the Hold Steady have progressed as follows: appreciation (Almost Killed Me), adoration (Separation Sunday), disappointment (Boys and Girls in America) and now, utter disgust (Stay Positive). If building something involves empty sloganeering ("Let's all be part of something bigger!"), reminiscing about punk shows, suffocating self-referencing and name dropping that would put G-Unit to shame soundtracked by music that would be played at a state fair in North Carolina, I think I'll pass.

Sometimes I think their mass popularity confirms my worst suspicions about independent music (whatever the fuck THAT means): that the scene that was once created as a haven for weirdos has shifted 180 degrees and has been co-opted by the same types of people that marginalized those weirdos. Somewhere in the 90's it was universally decided that the automaton nature of the 80's was wrong and as a result the notion of appearing countercultural and unique became important from Generation X on down, resulting in an independent music scene that is swarmed with people who, if indie weren't so fashionable, would be marginalizing the people who would be involved in that scene whether it was fashionable or not, all in the name of seeking culture outside the "mainstream" (whatever the fuck THAT means). When their lead guitarist takes out a double guitar and everyone goes crazy, I'm not sure whether I hope they are being ironic or sincere but realize that this band isn't for me anymore. Adieu!

8:00-8:40pm, Jarvis Cocker: It would be redundant for me to point out the tall, lanky nature of the former Pulp frontman but it is so necessary to understand the appeal of Mr. Cocker's live performance. It is would be as if someone taught a robot every show stopping/butt shaking/sexy dance move and then that robot was transformed into a rag doll with pencil thin legs made of wax wearing George Burns' glasses before the performance of said dance moves. Much to the chagrin of the audience, Mr. Cocker does not play Pulp tunes and even went so far as to not play many songs from last year's underrated Jarvis. But the fact that Jarv opened with two new songs to rapturous applause is a good indicator of how well he can deliver them. A new song, "Caucasian Blues" had some exceptionally funny lyrics as did the John Peel dedicated, "Girls Like it Too." The one drawback to Mr. Cocker's songs is that much like post-Smiths solo Morrissey, most of the tunes have serviceable music backed by wry lyrics and thus, hearing them for the first time live can be a bit unsatisfying. Regardless, "Black Magic" was still a highlight even though I heard it as I was cutting across the grounds to sneak a peak at No Age.

8:45-9:05pm, No Age: For the uninformed No Age are two guys, one drummer and one guitarist. They play songs that oscillate between precious noise and fuzzy-as-hell pop music that manages to never stick in my head. Thus, I spent a few minutes watching a guitarist and a drummer play what sounded like demos someone would make for a band except that this is the band. I did manage to hear Nouns highlight, "Teen Creeps" but left to see which version of Animal Collective would be closing the first night of the festival.

9:05- 10:00pm, Animal Collective: The Siblog affiliates spent some time debating whether Animal Collective would "bring it" on Saturday night or whether they'd play dauntingly long musical segues and all new songs. While they didn't play a Rolling Stones-esque singles set (does AC even have singles, really?), Animal Collective naysayed everyone who thought they'd contrarily play a set of exclusively new songs for a mass of exhausted festival goers. The Collective weaved in and out of beautifully melodic passages, teasing the audience with musical hooks from popular songs before burying that hook until the song appeared. Around ten minutes into their set I could have swore I heard the chant from Panda Bear's "Comfy In Nautica" only to be rewarded with a face melting, slow light strobing version of the song later on. The Collective brought tasteful lights that complimented the music perfectly, without ever taking the focus away from the band. In addition to the Panda Bear favourite, which elicited shouts of joy from hundreds of yards away from the stage, the band played "Peacebone" and closed with an extended version of "Fireworks" which had audience members setting off their own noisemakers.

Rant Review: Fluxblog's Matthew Perpetua Takes On Indie Ennui

2008-07-03T07:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday one of my favourite music writers and bloggers, Matthew Perpetua, posted a pretty dead-on synopsis, an anti-manifesto of sorts, that highlighted some of the problems plagueing that undefinable universe known as Indie Rock on Fluxblog. Being a long time reader and fan I wasn't particularly surprised that Mr. Perpetua and I had a very similar take on the latest wave of bands to dominate the internet and more increasingly so, the mainstream.

Although I disagree with Mr. Perpetua that we have seen the last of the Joy Division trickle down (Fall-Out Boy/The Killers will undoubtedly highlight Ian Curtis' most melodramatic tendencies for a whole new generation of angsty youth) and the "we're playing cheap Casios, lolz 80s!" boogie down isn't going to go anywhere so long as the reigning monarch of the indie elite give Cut Copy's mediocre records unnecessary acclaim, I too have long had enough of the "limp psychedelic folk, faux-Animal Collective bullshitting, and lame-ass attempts at mimicking the Jesus & Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine."

Mr. Perpetua continues his thesis, rather eloquently, with a frustration rife with passion for music and thoroughly nerdy. That is to say, mostly endearing. The fourth paragraph reads like an Obama-esque plee to blog readers everywhere:

We need change. We need to get away from the anti-intellectualism of this horrible era. We need to acknowledge and then subsequently reject the insidious, often unremarked-upon sexism that dominates 00s indie rock culture. We need to move on from recycling the work of the same old "safe" artists, and abandon the comfort of familiarity, and get back to embracing novelty and innovation. We need new artists with new influences.

Hmmmm. Where have I heard that sentiment before?

It is in the final paragraph that Mr. Perpetua's thesis begins to morph from Obama-esque inspiration to Jeremiah Wright-esque soapboxing:

So what do I want to hear? It's hard to say, really. I want something new, I want to be surprised. I want artists with strong personalities that don't conform to traditional expectations of rock/pop/hip hop stars. That said, I can offer some tips, and point in the direction of artists whose work ought to be reconsidered, and records and songs that may be worth mining for musical ideas. In the coming months, I'll be offering up New Influences on this site, and who knows, maybe someone out there will find themselves inspired. The artists and songs I plan to spotlight are generally well-known, and many will have something of a legacy, though usually restricted to their particular genre. I don't ask that people clone these songs, but instead give thought to what makes them tick, and apply that to their own work.

I posted this final paragraph in it's entirety to ensure nothing is taken out of context. My first problem with the ideas contained in the above paragraph is that it implicitly implies that all or, quite frankly, any band or musician would like to cater to any one person's tastes, in this case, Mr. Perpetua's. To be blunt: Who cares what Mr. Perpetua wants to hear? To be specific: it's not that I don't care about Mr. Perpetua's opinion on recorded music. To the contrary, I've been reading Fluxblog every single day since 2004. I have discovered countless new bands from reading Fluxblog and have checked out many of Mr. Perpetua's non-Fluxblog writing endeavors. What I am saying is that a rock critic giving "tips" or "pointing artists in the right direction" is exactly the same as a record executive suggesting a band change it's sound to make it more commercially viable. In this case Mr. Perpetua's isn't concerned with giving tips for commercial viability, he is giving tips on how to become a band that Mr. Perpetua would enjoy. Oh how blessed is the music community now that we know how to please the writer of Fluxblog!

The most egrerious offense that Mr. Perpetua goes on to commit is that rather than highlight new bands that are waving the flag of originality or innovation in his opinion, he decides he is now going to give bands suggestions on who to be influenced by. Basically, in this instance, Mr. Perpetua treats music creation like his own Choose Your Own Adventure novel. Now, I consider myself more of a critic than a musician, but I was always under the impression, perhaps naively, that artists created music that expressed what they were feeling, following their muse, no matter how misguided. Obviously this is a generalization, but it should be noted that for someone to explicitly suggest what bands and songs to be influenced by, any music created as a result will undoubtedly suffer from a lack of sincerity, and why shouldn't it? Mr. Perpetua is acting as svengali, someone who doesn't play in the band but suggests what bands to listen to in order to appeal solely to him. After offering up, "Miss You Much" the exceptional single from Janet Jackson's quinessential Rhythm Nation 1814, Mr. Perpetua even goes so far as telling us WHAT you should take away from the song:

I suggest that musicians focus their attention on the arrangement of "Miss You Much" rather than Jackson's vocal performance or persona, but I would be remiss not to mention that her presence is essential to the success of the piece.

To criticize his choice of song is definitely missing the point of the piece and thus pointless. It doesn't matter what song he chose: telling bands what to listen to in leiu of letting musicians choose what they want listen to based on their own taste is simply a flawed idea in and of itself.

I actually refrained from commenting on yesterday's post until I read a post on Mr. Perpetua's FluxTumblr today that was in response to a post pertaining to Fluxblug on Idolator. It was pretty similar to when I tried to give Josh Homme a brief pass on his disgusting, unforgiveable display of jock-ular homophobia only to realize by his pathetic, careless non-pology, that there is simply a difference in our fabric that will probably not be resolved. Note to sensationalists: I am not implying Mr. Perpetua is a homophobe or anything he did was on par with Mr. Homme's ignorance. It should be noted that Mr. Perpetua takes a refreshingly progressive stance on masculinity and gender. What I am trying to illustrate is that Mr. Perpetua and I have some fundamental differences on the notion of what role a critic plays within music.

The final paragraph of Mr. Perpetua's post on FluxTumblr:

Remember back in the late ’90s, and you had some critics and reissue labels going on about post-punk/punk-funk/leftfield disco, and then within a couple years, we suddenly had a wave of bands doing that sort of thing, and some of them were really quite good? There’s a lot of times when that sort of thing has happened. I definitely noticed a lot of indie types from around the world doing deliberately chart-pop type stuff after the whole “poptimist” thing set in around 2002/2003. I have no idea whether anything I’d put out there at this point in time would stick with people, but I think it’s definitely part of a critic’s job to influence working artists, and a lot of people have forgotten about that.

Without delving too much into the role of what a rock critic should be, it goes without saying that Mr. Perpetua overstates his, and all critic's importance within the realm of music. The point of music criticism is not to influence bands, it's to influence listeners as a whole. And while sure, everyone harbors fantasies of a band reading a review as constructive criticism (noted fairly eloquently in the FluxTumblr comments by Al Shipley), to outright dictate what bands can do to be deemed innovative by one person seems short sighted, baby-ish and immature. What if every band listens to Mr. Perpetua's advice and the marketed is flooded by songs that have that Perpetua sound? It is unlikely to happen, but it goes without saying that would be a frustrating as everyone trying to nick the JAMC.

While it's really tidy to note that in the 90's critics heralded a certain type of music, in this case, "postpunk/leftfield disco," later became a popular form of music in the underground, Mr. Perpetua misses two key points. One, in those cases, critics weren't sitting on a cloud passing out nuggets of wisdom about what is and what is not acceptable to be influenced by. They were simply giving records they liked praise, much like Fluxblog does wonderfully on a daily basis. Perhaps a few people who read those reviews then started bands. But if they did, they did it was on their own volition, not in the hopes of pandering to the people writing reviews.

Second and most importantly, Mr. Perpetua sells musicians a bit short to assume that musicians would start incorporating pop music in their music due to critical praise. Isn't it possible that the musicians heard the same pop music being praised and were moved on their own to incorporate it in their music?

A good rock critic should do nothing but express his unflinching and (ideally) educated opinion about what he likes and dislikes. If that critic has an interesting voice and earns the respect of readers enough to influence them to check out new bands or types of music, the rock critic has succeeded. Attitudes like Mr. Perpetua's enforce the rock critic cliche that rock critics are nothing more then suburban dads who couch their son's baseball team with a zeal that can only come from not being able to succeed at baseball himself.

But rest assured that I am not the type of guy who would criticize without coming up with a pro-active solution for Mr. Perpetua: if you want to hear music that excites you, that is chock full of influences you feel are unheralded, go start a band. Create the music you want to hear if no one is making it. But don't demand others make it for you. It has never been cheaper or easier to write and record music. Perhaps if you took the time to create music and have it laid out for people to judge freely and without much effort, you'd realize how insulting and obnoxious it would be if I then told you who your music should have been influenced by for me to like it.

In the meantime, let's all revel at what happens when rock critics make music.

When Bob Pollard Rocks, I Consider Listening

2008-06-20T08:07:00.000-07:00

I am not a Guided by Voices superfan. I do not want to hear a song where B. Pollard recorded his vocals through a fan into a digital recorder that will then be run through an analog synthesizer while he verbally riffs about scientific procedures I've never heard of.

But, when I read this morning that Robby P. had a new touring project whose mission statement is to sound like Cheap Trick, I ran to their Vampire Weekend dissing MySpace Page to check out what they sound like. There is only one song up, "Go For the Exit," and what do you know: it starts with forty seconds of lo-fi acoustic strumming with Bob singing over it, sensitivo style, that nearly falls apart into a GBV d-side before erupting into a classic power pop anthem. Pollard's anglo-aping vocals over warm melodic pop punk chords is where I think GBV are at their strongest, and by the time the indie arena rock solo comes in at the end, I'm so sold on it that I can't help but start it again from the beginning. Way to make me feel young again! Also, Bob looks awesome now that he has gone grey.

Their record, Brown Submarine, is out on September 9, 2008 on Guided By Voices, Inc. Coming from a man who created about 60 or so band names for a GBV box-set, he probably could have worked a little harder on the label name.

Download "Go For The Exit" from the Pitchfork here.

Morning Review: The new Girl Talk record dropped.

2008-06-19T06:51:00.000-07:00

Omfg. The new Girl Talk album, Feed the Animals is available right now. Download it for free here!

As I put on my helmet (safety first- the Siblog is for the children) and unlocked my bike, I cued up "Play Your Part (Pt 1)," the first track on Feed The Animals. The album opens with the pump-you-up-proto-motown bassline to Spencer Davis' "Gimmie Some Lovin'" with UGK's "International Player's Anthem" over it.

I don't think I've been this happy since Christmas 1988. The scene: after impatiently tearing open (too) many presents looking for Zelda II: The Adventures of Link, 8 year old Tom Siblog sits in his living room with his brattiest face on. Little did he know, The Siblog family was taking the piss: ZII:TAOL was snuggly tucked into my stocking, which is opened last.

I nearly jumped up and down on both occasions.

Concert Review: Evangelicals, Cake Shop 6/18/08

2008-06-18T07:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you buy a $450 weekend ticket to an unbelievable reunion at a rundown chateau in upstate New York that will take place almost four months after the purchase. But other times you find out that that one of your favourite new bands is playing an under publicized headlining gig at the Cake Shop two nights before the show. Even though their Dead Oceans debut, The Evening Descends dropped early this year, Evangelicals are currently touring the country opening for Shearwater and Frog Eyes. Thus, this headlining gig at the Cake Shop was a tour anomaly and their typically elaborate lo-fi stage theatrics were not in full force.

Theatrics in full effect:

For the unaware: Evangelicals are a four piece rock band from Norman, Oklahoma. They get compared to the Flaming Lips. A lot. But not "let's bring naked girls on stage and dance in a bubble" Flaming Lips. More like if "Clouds Taste Metallic" was produced for the stage by Ed Wood. With those similarities out of the way, it should stated that Evangelicals never feel like a homage. Part of the reason the Flaming Lips are usually a reference point (besides being from OK) is that Evangelicals don't really sound like many other bands. Sure, you could isolate a vocal or a melody that might sound familiar, but as a sum of their parts, Evangelicals feel fresh. Furthermore, watching them live, they have a ramshackle appeal that is hidden on their highly overdubbed (in a good way) album.

The band took the stage to a small but dedicated audience (aren't all small audiences dedicated?) of about 40 people. The lights went down, the smoke machine was cued up and Evangelicals were up and running. Throughout their short set, singer/guitarist/mad man Josh Jones looked like a wired child basked in thick green fog, his eyes bugging out of their sockets, his hands reaching out for the audience without ever touching them. The paranoid protagonists of The Evening Descends seem to become Jones, which sounds about as theatrical as having a light switch attached to your bass to activate a strobe light (done and done). But Evangelicals, in all their shimmery sugar drenched ghost fuzzed glory have such heart that they never seem contrived. Most of the time Jones' high pitched voice sounds genuinely frightened, whether it's of outside elements or himself. Their best song, "Skeleton Man," tells the story of a person who goes so crazy that he bursts into flames. When they played it last night you could actually see Jones as the Skeleton Man, cackling maniacally before the overdrive takes over, obscuring the song's lyrical centerpiece: "When someone loves you very much, you're fucked."

The band mostly played songs from The Evening Descends, with "Midnight Vignette" and "Party Crashin'" standing out as the best performances. For most of the set, Evangelicals had a charming garage vibe about them but during the beautiful coda to "Party Crashin'" the sound seemed to gel together, achieving the perfect decussation of dissonance and euphoria. It was probably the best minute of their whole show.

Evangelicals will be back in August albeit with Bright "Conor Oberst" Eyes. But if they decide to descend upon Gotham properly, as headliners, I'll meet you in front of the smoke machine.

Great Moments in Rock and Roll Review: The First Six Seconds of The Replacements' "Bastard of Young"

2008-06-12T09:37:00.000-07:00

While the video for the Replacements' "Bastards of Young" will always be remembered for it's punk rock middle finger (read: self destructive tendencies) aimed at MTV, I am including this video to pay respect to what may be the greatest six seconds of the 'Placemats' entire career, if not (excuse the hyperbole) one of the greatest moments in rock and roll.

The first six seconds of "Bastard of Young" starts with a hypermelodic lead guitar line before Paul Westerberg lets out a wailing scream just as the band comes in. The scream is off key and it's evident that Westerburg can barely sustain it for as long as he does. It sounds desperate and important, as if to say, we are giving it all we've got, why is it not enough? This theme is reiterated in the final verse in which Westerburg contemplates, "The ones who love us best are the ones we'll lay to rest/And visit their graves on holidays at best./The ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please./If it's any consolation, I don't begin to understand them."

I've listened to "Bastards of Young" dozens of times and that scream never fails to give me goosebumps. What rock and roll moments give you goosebumps? R.L Stine is not allowed to answer.

Ignorance Review: Usher's Views on Homosexuality

2008-06-12T08:55:00.000-07:00

The entire interweb should salute Idolator, the music industry's best check/balance. Since they also worship 90's indie (especially Jawbreaker) they clinch the respect of the Siblog. Today they posted a quote from the recently wed Usher on his nuptials.

Usher on marriage:

"Am I so much of a bad guy because I decided to get married? Am I so much of a bad guy [because once I got in the situation], I decided to stand for something, build a foundation, and think about my future? As a man, you would respect me for not turning my back on it. ... It can never be bad to have a foundation as a man — a black man — in a time when women are dying for men. Women have started to become lovers of each other as a result of not having enough men. Are you not studying the stories? Wake up! Black love is a good thing."

Now, while I can't argue the positive or negative effects of "black love" (primarily because I'm not entirely sure what he means), I do take issue with the fact that Usher seems to believe lesbianism can be directly attributed to a lack of men. How does he explain homosexual men? Also, I'm not sure how literal he was being, but are women actually perishing in their attempts to snag a man? Metaphorically or metaphysically, it doesn't add up.

Furthermore, I'm not clear on which stories he is speaking of. If he is talking about one of his club love anthems (that occasionally feature Young Jeezy), I'm pretty sure no scholarly interpretation could yield a pro-marriage stance.

I wonder if Usher thinks vegetarianism is a result of a shortage of meat. Homophobia isn't going to increase your subpar record sales pal!

News Review: Man Man to release new single this summer!

2008-06-12T07:43:00.000-07:00

There was much commotion at the Siblog yesterday when one of the staff noticed that Man Man's endearingly named percussionist, Pow Pow, posted a bulletin on Myspace that announced his new record label, Obey Your Brain. Which is, frankly, just good news. He then proceeded to drop the piece of information that has me re-contemplating lip hair: Man Man will release a new 7" on Obey Your Brain, presumably to be released this summer. Did I mention that the b-side is called, "Snakehandling the Moon Sault Kick Comeback"? I remember reading that Man Man recorded around 20 songs for Rabbit Habits and I'd be willing to bet both the aforementioned song and the a-side, "Little Torments" are from those sessions.

Additionally, Pow Pow's (somehow) more experimental band, Icy Demons will also be releasing their new album on Obey Your Brain. Their last LP, Tears of A Clone was pretty good and I look forward to hearing their new one, Miami Ice.

Oh and also, how was I not aware of this awesome Nike ad that features Man Man's classic, "10lb Moustache" and Rainn Wilson from The Office?

Podcast Review: Sound Opinions, Buried Treasures

2008-06-10T07:04:00.000-07:00

On May 26, 2008, our nation's leading rock critics (their words) descended from their cloud of promos and guest lists to share with us, via the Sound Opinions podcast, their buried treasure picks. What does this mean? It means Greg Kot and Jim DeRogatis are letting all the rocker peons what is the haps. Exciting! But before we get to their buried treasure picks...

Greg, I should let you know, it's pronounced Steve Jobs. As in GOB (George Oscar Bluth from Arrested Development) or the equally popular biblical figure, Job. Not Steve Jobs, as in "I'm unemployed and need a few jobs." Thus, your immature reporting on the new iPhone will be ignored.

Second, listening to Greg and Jim (mid 30's, white rock critics) talk about hip hop is terribly terribly painful. For some reason they've decided to crack open the Nas/N*gger controversy... when it's basically over. Greg makes the statement that Nas is one of the biggest selling east coast rappers of the last ten years, which isn't true. Hip Hop Is Dead was a modest hit but he is hardly selling like he was in the early 90's. Both of them wax hypothetical about how rap controversies sell albums and how this was all a publicity stunt (example they give: Kanye/50 feud), which is pretty well worn territory. They don't have the sense to mention how Nas always seems to harbor a hunger for Illmatic glory nor do they give Nas enough credit as an artist to consider that as a high minded emcee, Nas might have been trying to saying something with the album title. Instead, Greg offers a quote from Kid Rock about how rappers have co-opted the rock star lifestyle and have used it to sell records. While I'm sure Greg loved that soundbite/pull quote, I'm not sure how naming your album after a word that summarizes the disgusting racism that has plagued our country for hundreds of years is akin to groupie baiting, endless spending and coke binges but hey, Greg has probably met a lot more rock stars than I have. Is it possible Fuel was sitting backstage arguing about race relations before coming out to sing "Hemorrhage"? Let me know.

The boys make it clear, they cover the likes of pop culture mavens such as Madonna so we don't have to experience it for ourselves! Martyrdom! But the following tunes, Greg says, are so good, commercial appeal doesn't even matter. Are these guys professionals or what?

DeRo's First Pick: Local H, picked for their local Chicago flavour. Apparently, Local H's newest album is a concept album about a messy break up. Sounds like the something the Siblog might sniff out. But DeRo ruins it by describing some of the break up details and then playing the song in question. Here's the song: singer from Local H breaks up with gal. But she took his records! His Pretenders records! And she didn't even like them before they started dating!

Yes, all of that is played, in song form, over the "airwaves." I'm pretty sure my above summary was also far more eloquent than the lyrics (with far less generic riffage).

Greg's First Pick: Scottish band, Frightened Rabbits. My friend Hasty loves these guys and I couldn't find them more boring. Greg doesn't say much except review the band personnel and name the producer of the record. The song he plays, "Modern Leper," which is a pretty good jangly pop song with an over the top Scottish lead singer that, duh, is in a lot of pain, man. This probably wouldn't sound so good if I didn't just have to endure Local H's version of "Hissing Boring, Are We Even Performers?"

DeRo's Second Pick: 80's band, Big Dipper. Pretty good choice. I'd actually never heard Big Dipper before and according to Jimbo, Merge just put out a Big Dipper anthology since their records have been out of print for years. Recommended.

Greg's Second Pick: Uh oh. Greg is picking a hip hop record. He picks Bay Area emcee, Lyrics Born. When Greg says this song makes him want to "shake the butt" I decide I'm never going to dance again.

DeRo's Third Pick: DeRo can't help but mention both SXSW and Lou Reed before introducing Joan Wasser a/k/a Joan as Police Woman. Jim mentions she was on the "fringe of so many fascinating things musically over the years." The first example he gives of this is that she was dating Jeff Buckley when he drowned. Pretty sure that just means she was knee deep in sorrow, Jimbo, on the fringe of a tragedy. Her work with Mary Timony probably should have been mentioned sooner. The song is alright: as someone who dated Buckley she emphasizes those wavering vocals and I'm not really impressed.

Greg's Third Pick: I'm not sure where Greg has been buried for the last year or so but his musing on the Smell and No Age nearly make me vomit. I give credit where credit is due and pay my respects to these two fine critics but they are serious purveyors of lazy lazy journalism. Blah blah blah noise club blah blah blah LA blah blah blah the Smell blah blah blah melodic and noisy. Why doesn't anyone mention that they ape Kurt Cobain's two string guitar lines!? He then name drops Husker Du and Parts and Labor, who certainly sound similar to each other but don't have much in common with No Age. First off, it should be acknowledged that the Husker Du records that sound bad did not sound bad because Bob Mould thought it would be cool: they couldn't afford much else, and as soon as they could, they did. Additionally, while Parts and Labor mix some noise in with their pop, it's not the same: the analog squelches that are soaked into P&L's tight songs have little to do with the Memory Man reverb breakdowns that No Age specializes in. He then calls No Age's sound timeless, which is unfortunate. He plays "Cappo," one of the better songs on Nouns.

DeRo's Fourth Pick: Jim actually picks a pretty good new-ish band: the Black Angels. He almost ruins it for me by mentioning the VU for a fifth time in about forty minutes. The Black Angels are an excellent band that make the type of music you'd imagine a band called the Black Angels would make: midtempo, heavy, and badass. Occasionally their record, Directions to See a Ghost suffers from a lack of diversity in tempo and style but overall it is an amazing mood piece.

Greg's Fourth Pick: YES! Greg picked the new Mudhoney as his buried treasure. I could ramble on about how his justification for Mudhoney being a buried treasure was pretty silly but instead I made the rock sign with my hands and started tapping my foot along to Mudhoney's shredding single and title track from their new record, "The Lucky Ones." Do I agree with DeRo that if you don't own Superfuzz Big Muff that you are missing "something vital from your life"? Probably not. But if you haven't pogoed to "Touch Me, I'm Dick" I will gladly come over and irritate your neighbors with you.

The boys proceed to review the Al Green record but I've had enough rock critic silliness for one day.

Album Review: Wolf Parade, "At Mount Zoomer" (Sub Pop)

2008-06-04T06:39:00.000-07:00

Wolf Parade occupies a unique place in the current indie music scene, whatever the hell that even means. They made a splash a few years ago when they decided to throw their ubiquitous lupine moniker at the internet with keywords like "Modest Mouse," "Canada," and "Sub Pop" tagged more frequently than that overpass near your house where the 15 year old hoodrats hang out. It's been almost two and a half years since the release of their debut full length record, Apologies to the Queen Mary and the kids are already lining up to shoot up At Mount Zoomer with their phasers set to "meh." Not to say they've been out of the public eye: any 'Gum reading rube could tell you that Wolf Parade's singer/songwriters released all kinds of nifty side projects in the interim. Resident underdog Dan Boeckner released an LP under the name Handsome Furs with his way-too-hot-for-him wife and resident boy-wonder Spencer Krug released two albums with Sunset Rubdown and released the Swan Lake album with Dan Bejar and Carey Mercer. The aforementioned rundown of side project activity passively reveals what makes Wolf Parade so compelling: the band is working with two alpha singer/songwriters whose songs tend to be two sides of the same coin. Except that Spencer is clearly always considered the "heads" of the aforementioned imaginary metaphoric currency.

With good reason. For every very good contribution from Dan on Apologies ("This Heart's on Fire" and "Modern World") the moments of absolute transcendence came from Spencer ("Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" and "I'll Believe in Anything"). Spencer's songs are catchier and more unique, and his possesses a more distinctive voice, lyrically and vocally. Spencer seems so comfortable composing off kilter piano struts that it is at the same time charming and disarming.

The one exception would be the future NOW!: That's What I Called Indie (2005 Edition) tune, "Shine a Light," Boeckner's anthemic driving strut fest and Apologies centerpiece. But "Shine a Light" aside, I find their to be an underlying theme of "come for Spencer, stay for Dan." Or maybe I'm just projecting.

I've digressed to prove a simple point: At Mount Zoomer will not be a breakout record for Wolf Parade, but it will be the record that breaks Dan out of Spencer's long, proggy, handsome shadow.

At Mount Zoomer's biggest flaw is that it's the follow up to an enormously successful, beloved pop rock album. Sure, you can argue Spencer's throaty yelps give the band an edge, but Wolf Parade's most popular songs are the three and half minute blasts of energy that focus on relationships, whether it be to a person or to their surroundings. There are no such blasts of energy on At Mount Zoomer and that is going to be Wolf Parade's story for the 12 month press cycle that is already underway.

It is the modern music conundrum: is it a bigger cliche to follow up a successful album with more of the same or take a stab at a big artistic statement (whatever the hell that means)? Their press release even name drops surface level prog masterpiece, The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway so we understand how this is the ART section of art-rock. The simple truth is this album isn't a quarter as prog as Sunset Rubdown's second LP but about five times more compelling. The only people who will think this album is prog are the people who think "Bixby Canyon Bridge" on the new Death Cab for Cutie is a noise pop song. That is to say, 'Gum reading rubes.

Still, this push/pull between their current and former selves (and each other) is what makes At Mount Zoomer a worthwhile listen. Spencer's songs seem to deliberately hold out to the end for the big hook ("Bang Your Drum" and the pitifully titled "California Dreamer") or focus on rhythm to supply the melody where there is no discernable chorus ("Call it a Ritual"). On the flip side, Dan's songs are barn-burning forward looking anthems (at least comparitively), taking everything that made "Shine a Line" such a teenage delight, and improving upon it.

The album's best track, "Language City" steers itself along for about five minutes without ever deciding which of the song's five or so big hooks will be the chorus. The songs initial structure seems to suggest that the deeply resigned "All this working/Just to tear it down" is the song's focus/chorus. But after three minutes, Spencer's organ shifts the song's tempo upward injecting a sense of hope and excitement into a previously melancholy song. Still, the band refuses to give into the big release and the song collapses into 20 seconds of vocal tension before bursting into a coda that most bands would drive into the ground. Wolf Parade gives us about twenty five seconds of gleeful release. The song ends with Dan shouting, "We are not at home/Hang on the telephone." I've read a few reviews that suggest this song is about an actual city but I've come to think that the song is about modern technology and miscommunication, a theme previously explored in "Modern World." But whereas "Modern World" was about the relationship between man and his current surroundings, "Language City" is about how technology makes interpersonal relationships even more fragile; this static makes intimacy so difficult that it's nearly offputting. I think it also examines the timeline of relationships and how language is so powerful that it can obliterate years of intimacy in mere seconds.

Unfortunately, even at a mere nine songs, At Mount Zoomer is front loaded. "The Grey Estates" sounds like a poppy bone to throw at anyone who (read: everyone) who is going to be bored to tears by the next two songs, "Fine Young Cannibals" and "An Animal In Your Care." Both of those tunes seem like demos brought the table that no one else wanted to work on. Therefore, the first few minutes of each tune is basically some weak crooning by Dan and Spencer, respectively. "Fine Young Cannibals" (which would boast the worst song title on the year if there wasn't a song on the same LP with the title "California Dreamer") goes on in the same fashion as Apologies dud "Same Ghost Every Night." That is to say, for three minutes too long with meandering orchestration.

The final song, "Kissing the Beehive" is the only song where both singers bother to sing together, one of At Mount Zoomer's biggest mistakes. This ten plus minute cut and paste jam is neither as good or as bad as most people will make it out to be. If you can manage to parse through the first four muddy minutes and ignore the pointless 3 minute jammy outro, At Mount Zoomer's best moments are in here somewhere. Around the four minute mark, "Kissing the Beehive" transitions into a beautiful groove that sounds like the perfect compromise between what Wolf Parade was and what they'd like to become. The next three and a half minutes are the best on the album: Spencer shrieks "Fire in the hole" like a man possessed, while minutes later screeching "Oh oh oh!" harmonies behind Dan's muscular vocals before finding that disco-beat that they toyed with on their first few EPs.

It seems pointless to speculate why the album feels like it's missing something. Considering Sunset Rubdown has written some of my favourite tunes in the last three years ("Stadiums and Shrines II" in particular) I don't understand why none of Spencer's songs move me at all. Is he holding out his best songs? This album definitely does nothing to to dispell the constant elephant in Wolf Parade's practice space: when is Spencer going to cut free? Because as much as this album showcases Dan's burdgeoning talent, the reason At Mount Zoomer ultimately fails is because there is barely an upper tier Spencer song here. Hopefully we won't have to wait another three years to see what happens next.

Fashion Review: Women's Wedged Sandals

2008-05-30T06:38:00.000-07:00

It's that time again in the NYC. If there is one feeling that remains from my days back at Villanova, it's the goddamn-spring-is-here-again-girls-in-their-summer-clothes-fashion parade that is currently in bloom all up and down the streets of all the five boroughs. Sadly, for roughly the last five years a fashion trend has arrived that is so hideous that it can render the most beautiful woman unattractive. Or goat like. I am talking about wedged sandals. It has gotten to the point where I predict that my next bicycle accident will either occur while attempting to do handclaps to a song that I'm listening to and let go of the wheels or become distracted by checking out some ravishing young woman's shoes, praying they aren't wedged sandals.

Don't even get me started on how I feel about Tori Birch flats. Ok they look like reverse tap shoes. I digress.

The Classically Heinous Wedged Sandal:

The Jersey Wedge: The I Spent A Lot of Money But Still Look Like Like I have Hooves Wedge:

The Fifties Greaser in Jamaica Wedge: Basically, when I see a pretty girl in these dastardly sandals I can't help but think they look like this:

Is the wedged sandal the female version of the goatee? That is, do humans have some secret desire to mimic goats or look like Satyrs? Are goats more attractive than I've been giving them credit for? Only time will tell, and the Siblog won't sleep until he gets the answers.

Silly List Review: WOXY's Modern Rock 500

2008-05-29T06:17:00.000-07:00

Props to Stereogum for pointing out yet another desultory list of songs purporting to rate Every Good Song There is. Apparently over Memorial Day, WOXY counted down the top 500 Modern Rock songs. It's called the 2008 Modern Rock Countdown but the number one song is Radiohead's 90's classic "Creep." I guess that is around when the term Modern Rock became the euphemism for white guys in rock oriented guitar bands, of which this list is dominated by. Although this must have been fun to listen to, the rankings make it completely impossible to understand how they compiled this list. Has Arcade Fire's "No Cars Go" really toppled Matthew Sweet's "Sick of Myself"? It doesn't matter: they both fall in the 400's. Harvey Danger's "Flagpole Sitta" is cushioned next to Gnarls Barkley's minor hit, "Crazy" at 419 and 418, respectively. I feel like Gnarls might be getting punished on this list for not being ROCK enough. It isn't based on airplay since Doves and Spiritualized are about ten or so spots higher and have probably never been played on any modern rock station in the US. And Weezer's "Say It Ain't So" is lower than the National (and in the 300's)? It doesn't even matter what National song!

Every once in awhile they pair up two songs that would make me giggle. Like the Strokes and Urge Overkill. Imagine if they shared a bathroom! So much hairspray! So little shampoo!

They did get some things right: they included lots of radio-regulars that I love; e.g. McLusky and XTC. Built to Spill's indie power pop classic "Big Dipper" made the list... for the first time this year. Fifteen years and Doug can finally feel like he made it.

Check out the list for yourself here and feel free to leave the most egregious errors in the comments.

Talk Show Host Review: Kevin James

2008-05-19T10:59:00.000-07:00

Not to be confused with this guy. Apparently there is a neo-con radio talk show host named Kevin James and Chris Matthews embarrassed him live on Hardball. It's a bit long but worth it because Chris gets increasingly nasty as it becomes pathetically obvious that Kevin has no idea what he is talking about. Like the hardcore republican he is, James basically repeats the same phrases over and over and hopes they stick.

Biker Review: Jimmy Dean

2008-05-19T07:08:00.000-07:00

Spotted: Middle-aged man trudging up the Brooklyn Bridge towards Manhattan at 8:45am on Monday, May 19, 2008. His standard ten speed bicycle is protocol but the deep basket behind the seat holds the big reveal: not one, but two packages of Jimmy Dean microwaveable breakfast sausages and nothing else.

This makes me wonder... is there a lucky lady somewhere on the island of Manhattan who is currently chowing down on a delicious and delivered breakfast sausage? Or is middle-aged man with the basket the world's greatest co-worker? Could it be possible that there is a corner of our city that has remained immune to the Jimmy Dean frozen aisle takeover and now needs their sausage fix imported from the outer boroughs?

If you see this middle-aged man, now dubbed Jimmy Dean, please contact the Siblog immediately.

Sibling Review: Matt Siblo(g)

2008-05-18T08:55:00.000-07:00

Why it pays to be a Siblo(g).

Sample text message from Matt, Sunday May 18, 2008 at 11:47am:

"Let's go see Rancid together?"

Rancid are touring on a B sides and C sides record. Can you imagine what a Rancid C Side must sound like? I couldn't but now I think it sounds like "Devil's Dance" on their Myspace page.

Will we see them as part of their five night stint at Irving Plaza? Or watch them as they wax political in our nation's capital? Imagine the sophomoric between song rants against the GOP!

Song Review: Raekwon featuring Ghostface Killah, "Jihad"

2008-05-16T08:32:00.000-07:00

When I originally downloaded this track from the sublime hip hop blog, Nah Right, it had the title "Necro" but was later changed to "The Jihad." It matters not though since this leaked track from the perpetually forthcoming, Only Built for Cuban Linx II, presumably produced by Dr. Dre, has Ghostface's best verse since Fishscale. Raekwon's first verse is serviceable but unimpressive. Pretty Toney decides to save the song by using the chanting choir to offset his brilliantly filthy narrative. Does he really drink straight Bailey's? Will he ever finish the demented screenplay I know he has in him? Only time will tell. In the meantime, bump this when no one is listening and smile.

Download: Raekwon the chef featuring Ghostface- "Jihad"

**UPDATE: It seems that the song is produced by Necro and although Dre has worked on other OBFCLII tracks, this is not one of them. It's still bomb-omb.**

Happy May 16th!

2008-05-16T07:24:00.000-07:00

Let's Talk About Nostalgia.

Lagwagon, "May 16th", Live 1998:

Addiction Review: Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago"

2008-05-16T05:00:00.000-07:00

In late January, somewhere in the depths of Newark, NJ, I became acquainted with Bon Iver. In one of those Oh Shit moments where syncronicity runs amuck, my wonderful brother, Matt Siblo(g), had mentioned his adoration of an album by Bon Iver roughly one day before I heard a song on NPR I instantly liked. And what do you know, that song was by Bon Iver. That song, "For Emma" was a country tinged, horn laden ballad with gently driving acoustic guitar. I instantly became consumed with an obsession to hear the other 8 songs on the LP.

Almost four months later, I listen to For Emma, Forever Ago at least once a day. I feel no need to write extensively about the music itself or the setting it was written in. I'll just say that Justin Vernon overcomes every bearded-guy-with-an-acoustic-guitar cliche: the lyrics are obtuse but not distractingly so, the music is melancholy but never self-pitying, and their is just enough clitter clatter orchestration to give new perspective on what it means to be a modern troubadour.

I saw Bon Iver open for Black Mountain at the Bowery a few months back. Pitchfork.tv caught them both at the Glasslands Gallery recently.

Mandatory viewing of the aforementioned show:

Song Review: Bruce Springsteen- "Girls in Their Summer Clothes"

2008-05-05T17:30:00.000-07:00

When the Boss released Magic in 2007 and revealed that he recorded an homage to classic indie rockers/conceptional pop-sters the Magnetic Fields, I scoffed. Bruce's blue collar machismo and penchant for big rock seemed to be directly at odds with the Magnetic Fields' traditional lo-fi melancholy. On the other hand, Born to Run and the Fields both share an affection for wall of sound production and Springsteen is smart to emphasis this similarity by layering the song with thick crisp synthetic strings and lush acoustic guitars. Bruce sings in each line in a detached melancholy keeping the song structures pretty simple. At this point, he can write a song this simple in his sleep and since this is merely a genre exercise (much like 69 Love Songs) lines like "She went away/she cut me like a knife" are forgiveable. There is something human and touching about the narrator's resignation to being a mere onlooker, which subtly acknowledges the Boss' age without every having to be explicit.

Music Review Review: Death Cab For Cutie's Narrow Stairs

2008-05-04T10:32:00.000-07:00

Who doesn't like doing a little internet research?

To clarify: I woke up late this morning and was running through my AM internet routine, Sunday afternoon style. I came across the new Death Cab for Cutie album, Narrow Stairs, and couldn't help but download it (thanks Part of the Queue). As the opening track, "Bixby Canyon Bridge" ended in a squeal of distortion and echoed vocals, I couldn't help but wonder how Death Cab's rabid teenage fanbase and the Stereogum set were going to react to Gibbard's second major label attempt to be successful while trying to remain relevant in the current indie music landscape. One Google Blog search later I came across three reviews of Narrow Stairs that reminded where I landed on the "blogs as new journalism" argument.

Did Cameron Crowe's over the top optimism and aw schucks version of rock and roll journalism (or at least how it is portrayed in Almost Famous) affect enough suburban philistines that the world now has to endure dozens of record reviews that sophomorically let me know how the listener can relate to Ben Gibbard's every sneeze and sniffle? Apparently, yes.

If you read enough of these reviews, you'd know why Gibbard is so admired as a wordsmith. You'd also realize that either certain reviewers don't know the meaning of smarmy or have never listened to music.

Excerpts (verbatim):

Colin's Life in Music on Narrow Stairs:

"I have just had an experience which i wish that I could somehow convey to others and hopefully have them experience the same. Only once before, I believe that I have had this experience but when you are amidst it and completely aware. The essence of this experience is hearing sonic capability and realizing it for its true beauty and no more.
"When the song had finished and the album had come to an end, within the next ten minutes as I lay there motionless, these words poured into my brain and I realized the true beauty of this album."
On opening track, "Bixby Canyon Bridge": "This track sets the mood for the album with enough ambiance and structure at the same time, creating a perfect balance. An ambient intro which leads into a structured song which eventually dissolves into an ambient and chaotic outro with a structured and melodic vocal line which eases the song out."

Consequence of Sound on Narrow Stairs:

"These are songs bred in rhythm and saturated in rich melodies."
"To be blunt, Narrow Stairs represents another bold attempt as the band continues to embrace the idea that their own smarmy drama pop should be less abrasive and grander on a scale both lyrically and instrumentally."
"Would it be fair to judge the album based on its lyrics? In a way, no. After all, Gibbard isn’t the only member of the band; however, its hard to feel fresh when there are songs still about reigniting romance with someone else or dealing with ill fated conflicts on a day to day basis. Then again, isn’t that why anyone listens to Death Cab for Cutie?
"There’s a sense of escape and parallelism in our lives that runs its course with Gibbard’s own, even if we’re not venturing into Kerouac caravaning lifestyles and soul searching on our free time."
"Now to summarize, Narrow Stairs is another glossy volume of the same self introspective dramedies, which continues Gibbard’s plight in digging deeper than he really has to in life. He should be careful, though, because if one digs too far, they’re likely to strike rock and by then, they’re in too deep."

Living with Style on Narrow Stairs:

"Death Cab for Cutie is known for writing lyrics with general analogies that express the emotions that they have felt in experiences they themselves have had in life. Like any artist, creating a song about a certain emotion is much easier when they've experienced it themselves. But Death Cab doesn't write it in such a way that makes it very blunt, and you think "Oh, okay, so the guy is singing about breaking up" type of deal, or at least, not to often. Rather, Ben (The vocalist), like I said before, often uses simple or complicated analogies that one may not pick up right away, about the way he felt when something happened."
"To the initial listener, the song may seem very vague, but once the lyrics have been read, it becomes very clear what the writer is trying to say. It is this type of writing, that in their attempt, can create an image and story in your mind that can make their music so much more than just a song about an experience."
"The album itself isn't full of technical fretwork and crazy beats, but the straightforward drive of the well put together music accompanies the lyrics themselves. Most of the tracks on the album are what you'd expect for an indie album, with drums, piano, a synthesizer and the high and smooth vocals of Ben Gibbard, but it also features songs such as "You Can Do Better than Me" that have a more vintage feel by adding different effects. Although I myself am not too much a fan of this type of change in the occasional song, the song itself is still okay."
"For a first time listener, Narrow Stairs may not provide much to the listener due to it's deeper and more subtle talent which can be found in quiet background accompaniment, or complicated imagery, but it can also be a listening experience that can be full of emotion regardless if you know what the writer is talking about or not due to how the music is written."